Another World Shop

I wanted to ask what the hell was going on — but before I could, one of the figures cloaked in mist interrupted me.

"Follow me to the next room," she said, her voice calm and steady.

There was no threat in her words, only... inevitability. I didn't argue. I don't know why, but my gut screamed: one wrong step, and the consequences would be grave. Not ordinary consequences — fate-altering.

I walked down the dark corridor with a few others. Our footsteps echoed dully in a space that felt almost unreal. Finally, we entered a spacious room — somewhere between an old university lecture hall and a magical amphitheater. Rows of desks, wooden floorboards, a chalkboard aged by time. The air smelled of paper, wax, and something else… unfamiliar.

I took a seat at the front. The others lined up before me — seven of them, plus the Boss. The mist began to clear, and for the first time, I saw their faces.

Four guys. Three girls. All different — as if from different worlds. Maybe literally so.

Each wore a number, sewn or emblazoned on their clothing — a symbol that wasn't mere decoration. Rank? Order? Destiny?

The Boss nodded briefly.

"Introduce yourselves."

07 — Lucien Crownhart. Path: The Bloody Emperor

The first to step forward was a young man with a crimson vest embroidered with golden 07 on the pocket. He slipped off his gloves and stared straight into my eyes.

"Lucien Crownhart. My world — London, 1923. Machines, steam, and smoke — а steampunk city. My path — The Bloody Emperor."

His dark blue hair framed sharp features, and his eyes were like a stormy ocean. He looked older, more seasoned — like he'd been through countless wars.

06 — Celestia Vaelthorne. Path: Madness

Next came a girl in a luxurious velvet gown. Her figure was a masterpiece. 06 was stitched in ruby thread on her sleeve, shaped like an eye.

She smiled gracefully.

"Celestia Vaelthorne. I hail from an aristocratic magical realm. My Path — Madness."

Her eyes burned like a fiery sunset, blending pink-orange hues with golden sparks — hot as flames and cold as blades. Her light cherry-red hair fell straight to her shoulders, then waved softly, shimmering with a red glow like a spell cast at dusk.

05 — Nyra Elashar. Path: The Seer

She approached slowly. Her cloak was singed, fabric marked with smoke; on her back burned the number 05.

"Nyra Elashar. The world of waste. Survival among the ruins. My path — The Seer. My eyes see through layers of reality."

I recognized her — the sorceress from the shop. The one who once read my cards.

Back then, I sensed she wasn't random. Now, that feeling was confirmed.

04 — Father Erion Marn. Path: Mind

The next man looked like he stepped out of a dark cathedral — over sixty years old, wearing a slightly torn black cassock with a faint number 04 embroidered on the collar.

"Father Erion Marn. The world of shadows. My path — Mind. Prayer is formula. Sin is algorithm. Shadow is the language of gods."

His voice was deep and calm, full of certainty. No doubt — only knowledge.

03 — Rei Amon. Path: Mistakes and Sacrifice

A young man in a dark cloak with fiery red hair stepped forward confidently. The number 03 glittered green in silver threads on his sleeve.

"Rei Amon. My world — the spirit realm. My path — Sacrifice and Mistakes. I know the price of choice. I've paid it."

His gaze held pain and acceptance. He looked younger than me, but something about him unsettled me.

02 — Saphielle Noctis. Path: Death and Dreams

She moved silently, barefoot. Her white dress seemed woven from mist. A silver hairpin gleamed in her snowy hair, engraved delicately with the number 02, sparkling like a tiny star.

"Saphielle Noctis. The world of nightmares. My path — Death and Dreams. I am the queen of what you fear, and what you dream of."

Her voice was a whisper of sleep — soft, but dangerous. I felt shivers run down my skin as she returned to her place among the others.

01 — Kael Mirren. Path: Fortune

Last came a young man dressed in modern clothes. A glass bracelet on his wrist glowed with number 01.

"Kael Mirren. The world of illusions, also known as the world of glass. My path — Fortune. Luck is no accident. It's a weapon."

He winked at me, his smile light and confident. You could tell this guy was no ordinary character.

When silence fell, the Boss stepped forward. His form flickered, shifting as if his body couldn't hold his true shape.

"I come from a place that does not exist. My name has no meaning. Call me — Boss. My paths — Fool and Traveler. I am the one who walks — and never arrives."

His voice echoed inside my head, resonating in my chest. I nearly forgot to breathe.

"And now," the Boss said, "You, Ujin, are number 08. Welcome to the Travelers' Club."

I clenched my teeth. Questions churned inside me.

The Boss said, "Our goal is to become Lords of the Path. The pinnacle. Power that rivals the gods."

He continued, "But first — the beginning."

"There are seven levels. Six is the starting point — your current level. Levels five, four, and three are known as the Archon levels. At this stage, you can wound or even kill divine beings. Two is the level of a god. One is the limit of the Path. Zero is the Lord of the Path, equal to the outer and ancient gods"

I asked, "Who is this Absolute God you mentioned? Is he still alive?"

Nyra answered calmly, "He disappeared at the dawn of creation. Six external gods could have killed him — if united. And four Primordials, the Ancients, had their chance too."

I couldn't hold back my question any longer. "And why am I number 08?" I pressed.

"Because you're the last," the Boss said. "The Boundary Sphere revealed your potential — limitless. It cracked — one of the three relics of the Absolute."

Curious, I asked, "What are these relics?"

He took a deep breath and began to explain:

"These relics were created long ago by the Absolute God to preserve the balance and power of the world. The Sphere that cracked is one of his three relics. The other two — the Sword of Chaos and the Shield of Sacrifice — still exist, but their whereabouts are unknown."

I swallowed, realizing my potential was truly limitless. Then, trying to steady my nerves, I asked:

"And… where are we now?"

"In a dream," Saphielle replied. "I created it. Here we are safe. But I exist in reality. If I die in the dream… we all die."

A chill ran through me, but I said nothing.

"Each of us has a Path. Some have more than one. But quantity isn't everything. A single Path at level four can defeat two Paths at level five. The level and synchronicity matter. If a Path doesn't fit you, madness is certain."

The Boss continued, "And remember — beyond our Travelers' Club, countless other organizations exist across worlds, realities, and dimensions. They have their own rules, their own Paths, their own goals. Not all are friendly, and not all want us to grow stronger. Be careful now."

Understanding that, I asked, "How do I get stronger?"

Rei Amon replied, "Ancient tomes, rituals, artifacts, training, meditation. Everything that connects you to your Path."

"And why are you all here? Why do you aspire to become equal to the gods?"

Kael smiled softly, though a flicker of sadness lingered in his eyes.

"Because we had nowhere else to go. Because if we don't protect ourselves, no one else will — and our lives would be destroyed."

His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of hard-earned truth.

The Boss added, "I gathered you. I use you. But in return, you've gained a chance — a chance at life, at power, at choice."

I said nothing, just nodded.

They showed me to a room — spacious, cozy, better than where I'd lived before.

I lay down, closed my eyes, and thought with a faint smile:

I don't know why I'm anxious. But something inside tells me — everything will be alright.